


the boy who lived

by runningwaters



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Death, Family, Grave, M/M, Poe - Freeform, Sad, Soulmates, Tumblr, Wilde, kill me i dont know what i was thinking when i was starting this kill now, larry - Freeform, quotes, timer - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-04 02:52:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5317730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runningwaters/pseuds/runningwaters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So Louis was meeting his soulmate the same day as his mother's death anniversary. Great.</p><p>/</p><p>When Louis Tomlinson decided to accept his dying mother's last wish to get a timer that would apparently tell when one would meet his soulmate, he didn't realize the bitterness and the horrific realization to surface up. And he certainly didn't expect his heart to break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AU idea by: @fuckleeds on twitter
> 
> Credit goes to Bre for coming up with this idea and making me lose my mind.
> 
>  
> 
> Welcome. This is Louis, Harry, and other beautiful things in between. Happy reading.

Louis Tomlinson’s life was a party. That was all. At the age of 24, he is standing tall as the world’s most well-known model. Days and nights, filled with photoshoots, and parties, and fundraisers that he could care less about, he was living his life to the fullest. His life was a party with people he didn’t know at all. And then his mother died two years ago and she left, giving Louis the most idiotic, superficial thing anyone could have agreed to. Trust him when he says that he regrets ever getting that stupid countdown thing stuck on his wrist for fucking eternity.

His mother had said on her deathbed, “Since I’m leaving, Lou, I want you to find someone who will be with you forever like I was. Find your soulmate.” as if she had stuck with him when he was a struggling model, trying to climb on top, or when his boyfriend for 3 threes had cheated on him, or when his grandma died. She wasn’t there. She was never there but there Louis was, 36 hours later being dragged by his best friend to the place he would get his own death sentence.

“It’s for your mother.” Liam had said when he was pulling Louis in the building, closely emphasizing the one word Louis never understood the meaning of.

“That did absolutely nothing for me.” Louis replied, clipped.

“That’s what you say. But you love her from your bones and heart. You know how much she means to you, Louis.” He stayed silent.

“Now shut the fuck up and let’s get this done.” They both rushed in.

And two hours later, Louis Tomlinson had a fucking clock on his goddamn wrist.

“This is fucking insane.” Louis hissed at his friend who was admiring his wrist with wide eyes.

“Oh my god, it’s ticking!” Liam exclaimed, kind of shocked, kind of in joy. Louis looked down, his mouth agape as he stared at the thin clock.

“It says two years.” Liam had whispered.

“Oh my fucking god. Louis! This is serious. What the fuck.” He shrieked, constantly whispering ‘oh my god’ and pacing around. Louis couldn’t care less.

 

So now, two years later, Liam was, yet again, peering at Louis’ clock as they were playing FIFA. Louis groaned.

“Stop looking at my hand like that. It’s fucking creepy, mate.” Louis sighed.

“I just can’t believe that thing is still stuck on two years.” Liam arched his eyebrow. Louis all but rolled his eyes and said, “Yes, yes. I won’t meet my fucking soulmate, whatever and whoever the fuck that is. I’ll be alone forever, yada, yada, yada..” He waved his hands on the air in motion as if to describe that he didn’t really care about living in this house alone. And then Liam gasped, very loudly, and clasped his hand over his mouth, the other curling onto Louis’ wrist, stopping his motion.

Louis looked at him, “What?” And Liam flickered his eyes over to his best friend, then to his wrist.

“It changed..” He trialed off.

“I-It changed.” Liam said it again, as if to tell himself that it was actually true.

“Whaaaat?” Louis asked, mildly amused and completely oblivious. The brown-eyed man finally snapped, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“The date! It fucking changed, like right now, earlier. It fucking changed, you shit. Oh my god!” Liam got up and started to jump up and down. He then proceeded onto smashing Louis’ wrist on his face, telling him to see.

“Oh.” Louis uttered out. He blinked. He shook his head. Looked at the clock on his wrist. Blinked twice. Looked closer. It didn’t change. Then it dawned to him.

“Oh..” He breathed out. Liam looked ecstatic.

“Oh? Oh?! Louis, you’re meeting your fucking soulmate in seven days! OH MY GOD.” Liam screamed at last, causing Louis to cringe.

“Yeah, yeah. Seven days. Whatever.” He shrugged.

It has been 3 days since that day. Louis didn’t feel anything. It was just another day filled with several photo clicks, four coffee rounds, two hours’ worth of sleep, and a quick shag with a random person.

Day four. Another day. Just filled with more irrelevant things. Get up. Photoshoot. Lunch with Liam. Photoshoot. Quick hit at the bar. Five tequila shots. About four hours playing FIFA. Another day.

Day five? Who fucking knows. Louis had gotten drunk out of his mind and ended up awake on the side of an abandoned street inside of streets. He had gotten lost twice before he found the main road and realized that he was outside Liam’s apartment building. That day, Liam and Niall (his boy-toy, Louis thinks. He’s not too sure) help him up in his own apartment and get him washed up, ready for something. Louis was drunk. He didn’t hear most of what they were talking about.

Day six. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. He had been itched on the skin for the last few days, always pacing around, always wrecking his mind over what his supposed ‘soulmate’ would look like. He had a million thoughts and questions on his scattered mind. What is he like? Is he nice? Rude? Bad? Amazing? Does he like playing football as much as he does? Does he like the same music as him? Does he smile a lot? Is he good with children? Is it even a he? What if his soulmate is a _she_?

Louis thinks he might as well take a visit to his bed and stay there for about three years because it’s just. Just. There’s no words to describe what he was feeling. It was too much and too little all at once. He wanted to know who this person was and just get the anticipation get done with but at the same time, he was scared. He was scared as hell. There were too many things on his mind and that day, instead of playing FIFA or getting wasted, that day— Louis decided to take a trip away to a nearby town. Just to get away for a little while. He wanted to get away from the chaos. But he didn’t realize that, that chaos was in his own mind and it was racing him towards the finish line.

Five hours. In five hours, Louis would be seeing his soulmate. Somehow. In some way, he would end up ‘bumping’ into his soulmate. He chuckled at the thought of that. Too cheesy.

He looked at the clock and sighed. He had come back from his little trip to a town. The one he couldn’t care less to even know the name. He just wanted a getaway. He didn’t want to know the name of the town with little happy kids and smiling grandparents and busy parents. He didn’t want any connections, strings. He just wanted to be alone. He just wanted to be the way he was for the past twenty-four years.

Maybe that was the problem. Looking at himself looking at the clock in expectancy, Louis realized he didn’t want to be alone for the first time in his life.

And that scared the living shit out of him.

 

It was today. Louis had been up for a good two hours (it was 9 a.m at the moment) tugging at his hair and trying to find a decent outfit to wear when the ‘accidentally bump into your soulmate’ moment happens. Louis thinks he’s a fucking idiot. A somewhat good-looking piece of shit who is supposedly worth being plastered at every tabloid magazine in the world. He thinks he’s a paranoid freak who is about to go on a meltdown.

That is until his doorbell rings. Louis jumps at the sound and after a good thirty seconds trying to remember why a person was knocking at his door, he walked down the hallway and entered his living room and then finally opened the goddamn door.

“Your delivery, Sir.” A young girl said. She pushed the takeout further into the air. Yep, she was getting impatient.

“Oh, yeah.” Louis blinked, and pulled a twenty from his sweatpants’ back pocket. He didn’t even realize it was there until now. Hm. Sometimes Louis thinks he’s got too much money and too little people to spend it on. Sorta sad. The girl takes the money and whips out the change and without saying a proper goodbye, she races away.

“Have a good day too!” Louis called out, smiling like a sarcastic old man. He then groaned and plopped the food on the kitchen counter before running to the sofa and throwing himself over it, starfish style. He was already dreading today.

Three hours has passed now and it has been a few seconds that Liam had arrived on the fringe-haired man’s doorstep, a bouquet on his hand, a dour look on his face.

“Ugh, what?” Louis said, disgust dripping from his tone.

“Quit it, Tommo. Today’s the day.” Liam replied, walking in and putting the flowers on the coffee table.

“I know, I know, I'm meeting my ‘soulmate’ I know, it’s not a big deal, mate.” Louis rushed, feeling his heart sink a little.

He doesn’t know why.

He has been feeling a little down today. He should be feeling excited, right? I mean, he was finally meeting his soulmate! It was a huge deal. And that was it. It was a huge deal. But his heart just hasn’t been okay with it.

He doesn’t know why.

“FUCK!” Louis snapped out of his little dream and looked at Liam, who was wearing a shock expression on his face with a mixture of awkwardness and pain.

“What?” Louis asked.

“Fuck, Louis. I totally forgot you were meeting your soulmate slash husband today!” Liam cried out, wincing.

“Okay? Why’s today big other than that?” Louis questioned, genuinely confused.

“Did I forget something?” He glanced at Liam’s expression.

“Fuck. I did, didn’t I?” Louis squeaked, big blue eyes staring at his best mate.

“Er-Uh. This is kind of weird to say. Haha..” Liam trailed off, scratching the back of his head, an obvious nervous smile on his lips. Louis was about to explode. Yep. That was it. There was a bomb inside his body. This timer was a bomb instead of a soulmate finding thing. It has to be. Otherwise, Liam wouldn’t look so troubled.

“Just tell me already, you twat!” He hissed.

“It’s your mother’s death anniversary today.” Liam quickly said but thank God Louis heard it the first time because honestly, Liam did not want to repeat it. Louis chuckled.

“Nice one.” He lightly punched Liam on the chest.

“Louis.”

“You should stop trying to make jokes, pal.”

“Louis.” And by the third time Liam had said his name, Louis was on the sofa with a pained expression on his tanned skin.

“I’m meeting my soulmate on the day my mother died.” Louis said, more to himself than anyone.

“Thanks.” He sarcastically said, looking up at the ceiling.

“You have to leave in an hour, Louis.” Liam said, resting his hand over the man’s shoulder.

“Huh?”

“You have to visit her, Lou.” He said, sympathy lacing on his voice.

“No. No, I don’t. ” Louis shook his head, nibbling his bottom lip.

“It’s been two years. You have to, mate.”

“I don’t have to, okay? It’s my decision.” Another twenty minutes past while the two best friends argued. And Liam won, of course.

“It’s okay.” He had said.

If only Louis had known that after stepping out the door, it wasn’t okay. Nothing was okay. Not anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> louis meets harry. people cry, people leave. some stay.

“I don’t think I can do this.” Louis grimaced. They had arrived at the cemetery a while ago and Louis just wouldn’t budge.

“Yes, you can. Just a quick greeting, please. This is the first time you’re visiting her since her death, Lou. It’s a big deal and you can do it. Okay? Nothing comes easy in life. Isn’t that what she told you the first time you decided to do something with your future?” Liam lectured some more. Louis thinks it’s his way of telling Louis to just suck it up and fall short on his knees in front of his mother’s grave, say something nice and just get the fuck out of there, all in five minutes time. Thinking of that made Louis find a little air in this place.

He shakily exhaled a few times and found Liam’s hand holding his. Tight. Warm. Always there to guide him out of the dark. Just like what a friend feels like.

“You’re okay.” Liam whispered on Louis’ ear, giving him a soft peck on the forehead. Louis stops thinking at that moment. He doesn’t want to think. He just wants to suck it up and fall short on his knees in front of his mother’s grave, say something nice and just get the fuck out of there, all in five minutes time.

“I’m okay.” He nods his head and looks up at Liam’s warm eyes, finding nothing but warmth. Louis wants to cry. He’s so incredibly lucky to have Liam in his life, he could never say it enough. He whispers a little ‘thank you’ and in the next ten minutes, he finds himself in front of his mother, Liam holding his hands. Tight. Warm. Always there to guide him out of the dark. Just like what a friend feels like.

Then, Louis thinks. For the love of God, he fucking _thinks_.

“I want to do this alone, yeah?” He breathes out. Liam smiles short and nods his head.

“Of course, love.” He replied and held Louis’ hand for ten more seconds before letting go and walking away.

Louis stared.

Louis stared at the grave for a solid few minutes. Looking at the words. ‘Donna Tomlinson. Loving daughter, mother, and sister.’ He’s sure about her being a loving daughter and sister. Mother? He’s not too sure about that one.

“Uh. H-Hello.” Louis nervously chuckled. He gulped. He doesn’t think. Again. Words rush out of his mouth like waterfall and he couldn’t stop it. He just couldn’t.

“First of all, fuck you. Fuck you. You’re a piece of utter shit. Remember when you fucking stuck me with this stupid thing two years ago?—“ Louis thrusts out his wrist in the air. Then continued, “—Fucking remember? I’ve been walking around this thing for fucking years and it’s all your fault. Come to think of it, every stupid thing I do is because of you. You did nothing but ruin my life. Whenever something happened and I needed you in some possible way, you would run away. I don’t even know why I’m here. I have no purpose at all as to why I’m here. J-Just. I just came here to say that you’re the worst mother anyone could have.” He stopped.

Then he breathed. His heart shook a little. His lips trembled. He stood up. His heart trembled. His throat felt heavy.

Louis couldn’t go back to Liam looking like this. So he turned the opposite way and walked. And walked and cried and walked and cried. He walked. And cried some more. In what felt like fifteen seconds later, he heard a buzz. From his wrist.

“Wha—“ Louis glanced down at his wrist. Then gasped and cursed. He looked at the timer, focusing at the 0 days, 0 hours, 0 minutes. It stopped buzzing when he took three steps back.

He didn’t know what the fuck just happened.

For another two minutes, Louis was seen running in circles, taking a step back and forth as if the timer would start to buzz again. He was so confused. There were no people at all near him at the moment. Why did this stupid thing buzz then? He thought. He took two steps back, it didn’t buzz. Two steps front, it didn’t buzz. Four steps front, it didn’t buzz. Seven steps back. Then.

A buzz.

The timer buzzed like crazy, Louis’ wrist shaking just a little as his eyes went wide. His ocean eyes looked up and searched the deserted area finding nothing but fallen leaves and wind and not one breathing soul besides his. He was so fucking confused. He wanted to cry.

 

After about ten minutes of Louis stepping back and forth and the timer buzzing, then not buzzing, Louis shook his head and looked down while the timer was buzzing. He just looked at the stone. Then he took two steps back— the buzzing stopped.

“What the fuck.” He mumbled, stepping two forward— the buzzing started. Finally realizing, Louis looked down at a grave, completely stunned and horrified.

“No, please. No.” He proceeded onto muttering various other curse words before it dawned to him. After that, he sat on the grass, in front of the grave, tears leaking and hands shaking and the buzzing continuing. Louis’ heart was close to shattering as he stared at the name imprinted on the gray stone.

_Harry Styles._

 

 

Twenty minutes later, Louis was found walking back towards his parked car with Liam leaning on it, a worried expression enveloping on his face as soon as he saw Louis’ red rimmed eyes and a dark look on his face.

“Lou? You okay?” Liam rushed, his hands pressing itself on the sad one’s cheek. Louis didn’t hear. It seemed like his ears were blocked, ringing unbearably. Louis couldn’t care less. But Liam on the other hand, had already started to worry about the worst possible things in his mind.

“Love?” Liam voiced his concern. Louis walked around the car, opened the door and slowly got inside. His face was dark and his mind was a mess. He started taking short breathes, feeling his chest tighten and his throat felt like something was blocking it from taking a good breathe. By the time Louis had started coughing, eyes stinging with tears, Liam was by his side, holding him in place, soothing him— doing _something_ to stop Louis from having a panic attack. Using one hand, Liam called the doctor in speed dial and told the driver to take them to Louis’ flat.

“Louis, it’s okay. Breathe, love. Breathe. Please.” Liam was near tears. Seven years of friendship and he had never seen Louis having a panic attack this bad.

It was horrific.

“Lou, please. Inhale, Exhale. Short inhale, love. P-Please. Deep exhale.” He repeated the words to his best friend, rubbing his back and chest with both palms. And Louis did.

By the time they got home, Louis breathing was irrational, but somewhat normal. But he still didn’t talk. He had wiped his tears away, his mouth was dry and his head was resting on Liam’s shoulder.

“Say something.” Liam had whispered as the car came to a stop. Louis didn’t. Instead, he quietly and with a lot of difficultly, got out of the car and stumbled inside his flat, finding his regular doctor. Though, the old doctor didn’t say anything. He simply nodded his head and waited for Louis to go to his room.

 

“Okay.” Paul, the doctor, breathed. “It looks like you have a sore throat and a fever. The fever is very high so it would be best if you rested for a good three days. Here are the antibiotics.” Liam reached for them before putting them on the bed side.

“Take one every seven hours for the fever on the first day. Then, tone it down to one a day. Warm water every morning after you wake up and before you go to bed.” Paul finished, giving a nod for both Louis and Liam. He then left.

“I’ll get you some water.” Liam said, standing up. But Louis grabbed his wrist, tugging him just a little. Liam looked back, confused.

“I’m glad you’re in my life, Li.” Louis hoarsely said, voice low and scratchy. He meant it. Liam was the only constant thing in his life and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. Everyone leaves. That was what life had taught Louis, but the only one who was always there for him was Liam. His best friend. Someone who’s there to keep his mind sane.

Liam smiled. A truly real one that Louis liked. He then proceeded onto pressing a kiss on Louis’ forehead and leaving the room.

Louis room was a scattered mess, much like his mind right now. He thought back to a few hours ago at the cemetery. He looked at the timer on his wrist saying. It was blank now.

Louis guessed it meant that he had met his soulmate.

_Harry Styles._

Louis blinked. Funny how he left too.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> louis, quotes, tears, and endearment

Two weeks have passed by like a blur with Louis sitting on his bed all day, eating takeout, and watching netflix like never before. His manager had cancelled all his photoshoots for the next month when seeing Louis' morose condition. Josh was a good man.

For the first time since then, Louis got up from his bed and walked to his living room. He set his laptop on his lap when he sat down, eyes circling dark, facial hair thick and unruly. He looked like a right mess from head to toe with his five day sweat and god knows how long he has been wearing that sweatshirt of Liam's, and his hair was long and a bird's nest as of right now.

Okay, Louis admits; he looks like a mess. But not as much as his life. He grew up like in a foster care, mother died and asked for a dumbass thing to be stuck on his wrist, he visits her grave for the first time in two years and he gets greeted by his dead soulmate.

He has a fucking right to be a mess and not act like he's famous.

After ten minutes of contemplating with his inner demon self, Louis processes onto searching that god awfully posh name on Google.

“I swear if this kid is the fucking Queen's grandson or something.” Louis rasps out loud to no one in particular since he's alone. He's been alone since two weeks. He's been alone since years.

Several links pop and Louis is eager to click the first one. Facebook. God, he fucking hates Facebook. But he clicks it anyway. For his soulmate.

Correction: Dead soulmate.

The profile picture is ugly. Plain ugly. The boy (yes, boy, since it looks like the guy hasn't even fucking hit puberty yet with his pimpled face in view, hair in tight, knotted curls, and he's wearing tinted glasses, smiling like a fucking dumbass.

Louis might go crazy.

“Are you fucking with me.”Louis groans, eyes watering just a little as he exits out and clicks on the next link, Twitter.

It hadn't been used in over four years and the icon was... better. Better than the one in Facebook. This boy had his same knotted curls and crossing out those ugly glasses, he was wearing a sweatshirt with a beanie, grinning with thumb in the air. Cute.

Not bad, Louis thinks. But his mind races with thoughts. First being if this boy is even fucking legal. He then shakes his head, takes a gulp of his beer and exits out, clicking on the last link which completely wooed him. Tumblr.

He clicked on it, expecting an empty dash with awkward pictures.

What he didn't expect, was an unknown quote for a bio, a picture of a body in a field full of flowers. He didn't expect over fifty thousand followers. He didn't expect this Harry Styles to be a photographer, or a writer, or a cheesy romantic. He didn't expect him to write beautiful sentences and be beautiful.

Louis didn't expect to spend an hour in front of his laptop, reading every little thing Harry Styles posted, smiling at the ones funny, blinking at the ones sad, and fucking crying when he got to see his face. The face that was behind an account adored by fifty thousand people, the face that made concentrated frowns while writing tragic poetry about rainfall and stars and soulmates.

And he cried. Louis cried when he saw the smiling face of Harry Styles. He cried at the picture when he realized that it was posted no more than a month ago. He cried when he realized that this boy, his soulmate, was near-perfect and he cried and cried and cried when he realized that he wanted to get to know him. So bad.

He wanted to get to know what the reason was behind him starting an account, writing about soulmates, and talking about two stars colliding into one and comparing them to two bodies who are in fact one soul; just pulled apart by the very above and left to the dust to pull themselves together.

He wanted to know everything about Harry Styles. So without wasting another moment, he dialed his manager's number and asked him for a full biography about Harry Styles, asked him to get him everything he possibly can in an hour. Then, he called Liam.

“Hey.” Louis whispered into the phone, closing his exhausted eyes.

“Oh, Lou.”He heard his best friend sigh.

“I’m sorry I haven't called you back. It's all been too much, and I wanted to tell you when I was ready.” He was sorry. Liam had been calling him non-stop, everyday twenty times, for the past two weeks. While that would be annoying to anyone else, it was comforting to Louis. It showed that there was someone worried about him, someone that was insane enough to care and worry about him.

“What happened, love?” Liam asked in his comforting tone, the one where his voice hushes down and you can picture him slouched somewhere in his house with his thick brows furrowed in worry.

“Met my soulmate.” Louis laughed. He did. He laughed for a good minute. It felt good.

“What? When?” Liam gasped out.

“The day at the cemetery.”Louis mumbled, tears already building up.

“So they were there to visit? Louis, what's their name? Can we set up a meet then? It's going to be great!”The excitement in Liam's voice caused Louis to break down. Fuck. He cried. He let his wild tears roll down from his dry cheeks, chest heaving up and down and words jumbled together like keys.

“Dead.” Louis finally uttered out, going limp at his own touch.

“He’s dead. Harry. Styles. Dead.” He laughed. He did. He laughed for a good minute. It felt good.

Correction: It felt horrible and it was all terrible saying that the one person that chose you was gone, that they walked away from your life even before they stepped in. That they ran for the hills, they left. It felt horrible and it was all terrible saying that the one person you could have a connection with, that the one person you could potentially be in love with, has walked away from your life.

“Lou.” Whispered Liam.

And that was the end of that conversation.

 

 

Louis’ head a mess. Between memorizing Harry's words and memorizing his perfections, he found himself groaning and crying and repeating Harry's words.

“You're the moon and I'm the sun; making ends meet to glance, but never succeeding.” He repeated the words he saw on Harry Styles' Tumblr.

By the end of the day, Louis had gone completely crazy and memorized his favourite quotes from Harry, writing them on his walls and on his notebook, printing them on paper and on his heart. Every minute that went by, Louis lost his mind just a little. But that was okay. It was okay. Because to Louis, Harry's words were majestic, dripping onto his skin like paint on a canvas.

And it was crazy. It was fucking insane to think that Louis was getting attached. He was getting attached to a dead person. He really doesn't want to think that the person behind these beautiful words is gone. But he did. Think. He thought about many things. He thought about what it would feel like to meet Harry Styles for the first time, go on their first date, have their first kiss, have their first New Years' kiss. He thought about what it would feel like to wrap his arms around Harry Styles' neck while he types beautiful words into the laptop, and what it would feel like to have their hearts belong to each other.

He thought about many things. It drove him insane. Just a little.

When the door bell rang, Louis jumped out of the sofa in a hurry. On his way, he rubbed his tired eyes and opened the door. Revealing his manager, Josh. He then glanced at the file on his hand and sighed.

“Oh, hey. Thanks, man.” He said, and grabbed the file. Josh tightly smiled. They stood their for a while, Louis on the other side of the open door and Josh on the other.

“You okay, Louis?” Josh finally uttered out, eyes showing concern. It made Louis' heart plant seeds onto the surface.

“Yes, yes. Thank you again.” Louis rushed, closing the door and leaving a surprised Josh behind the now closed door. At that moment, Louis really didn't care. So he walked back to the sofa and opened the file. He couldn't feel anything. Numbness maybe.

Inside the red file lay four papers, the first one being a little biography of Harry Styles. The second one was a paragraph of his writing found on his website. The third one was a bunch of links. The fourth one was a badly printed letter to someone.

When Louis finished reading the first three papers, he could say that he knew Harry Styles a little. He was twenty-two years old, living in London in a flat just outside the main streets. He likes babies, baby dogs, baby kittens, baby sheep, baby everything. He also liked to travel, write, and read a lot. He is a professional photographer, randomly writes, and likes to cook. His favourite flower is a Daisy, God knows why, and his favourite colour to paint his nails are pale blue. He loves his mum and has had two kittens before they were given up. He named him Tea and Bag.

Louis chuckled at that. Who in the world would name their pets Tea and Bag???? Harry Styles. He was endeared. Louis was endeared and sad and kind of questionable on how Josh found all of these quite personal information.

He didn't give it much thought though for his eyes had been caught by the last paper. Badly printed, letters faded and very hard to read. Louis squinted; he couldn't read. So naturally, he was curious.

The only words he could read was Dear S-ul-a-te. They were jumbled, words were apart and joint and Louis was really curious. He then proceeded onto wrecking his mind more over all things Harry Styles.

No luck.

He couldnt understand anything but little tiny printed letters and a sentence. A sentence. It was better than nothing, and that sentence was.. deep. Louis could tell that this letter of sorts was profound in many ways. Maybe knowing that caused Louis to read that sentence twice before blinking, then reasoning with himself that his soulmate, no less dead, was fucking fascinating. He was intelligent, and beautiful and his words were alluring, tempting, nerve-wracking, and completely, completely majestic. Harry Styles was majestic by the way his words would scrape Louis' heart just a pinch, each time going deeper. He was majestic by the way his porcelain skin looked so clean and so soft and just so worthy.

That was when he realized that Harry Styles might just be the most riveting and mystique person. He could might as well be Louis' favourite subject to study, or in this case, his favourite person to know slash love.

Fuck. Shit. Damn. Shit. Fuck. Shit Fuck Damn Fuck Fuck Fuck.

Louis is fucked. Completely and utterly fucked in the head. He sorta realized that when moments later, he picked his phone up to ring Liam and to tell him that they're going to visit the Styles ménage.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> family meetings

Louis remembers that one sentence he had managed to understand from Harry Styles’ paper yesterday. As he stands in front of the wooden glass door of the Styles residence, he repeats the sentence like a mantra.

‘...like fierce moving stars shooting across the night sky.’

It didn't make sense in the situation he was in right now, but it helped. Somehow, in a fucked up soulmate understanding way, it helped. So when a lady with striking similarities to Louis' beautiful soulmate, he certainly wasn't as scared as he was before.

The lady, who Louis will only assume it was Harry Styles' mother, approached the door with a confused expression on her face. She all but stopped three seconds in front of the transparent door before hurriedly opening it, holding a baking glove on one hand. When she finally did open the door, her actions were timid and respectfully, Louis had smiled when he felt Liam's hand press on his back to encourage him not to run away at the sight of Harry Styles in a female version. As Liam had sternly said earlier.

“May I help you?” She asked, forehead creasing. Louis smiled further and nope, he certainly did not want to run away at the sight of Harry Styles in a female version. He didn't. Infact, the first thing he said to Harry Styles’ mother wasn't a simple hello. No, it wasn't because what is Louis Tomlinson if not a clumsy, babbling fool.

So. 

“I’m Harry's soulmate.” Louis blurted out. One would think the sentence that flew out of his mouth and into the lady in the front's brain caused her an aneurysm that just couldn't wait to be operated on. She looked that shocked, that pale, that dazed, and that much... joyous?

????

Okay. Now Louis was confused. Isn't this the part where Harry’s mother starts to get emotionally unstable, yell at Louis with a good amount of colourful words, and then Louis would get the time to calm her down and tell her the whole story before she starts to show any kind of joy? Isn't it??

So. Now Louis is scared. Because now the lady's face is plastered with a big smile, eyes glinting with fresh tears and Louis really wants to leave. He does. He really fucking does unless it wasn't for his stupid best friend to hold his body steady while he tried to get away from Harry Styles' mother.

“Oh my god! You're perfect! J-Just.. just perfect... Oh, you.” She cried. And grabbed Louis into her arms as she enveloped his body into a bone-crushing, unfamiliar hug. Louis all but blinked, hands reaching up to her back to sooth away the pressure.

“I-thank you. I suppose.” Louis made a face, chuckling and breathing out a sigh of relief he didn't even know he was holding.

Liam had left shortly after.

 

 

It was safe to say that Anne (as she insisted for Louis to call) was mad about Louis. She couldn't stop smiling since the minute the two of them stepped in the living room and she had gone mad happy. Not that Louis minded. Anne had been showering him with hugs, quick pecks, huge cookies, and lots and lots of statements about how Louis seemed perfect for Harry.

It was nice. It felt nice.

“I-I just want to know Harry.” Louis had said when Anne asked what the reason was for him to come all the way from London to Cheshire— aside from the obvious. Anne had blindly smiled at that and again, fresh tears had started to smear her mascara, lips trembling as she spoke.

“He was good. My boy, he was good. T-The best. He cared about everyone and everything. Lovely, he was so lovely, Louis. I'm sure you would've fallen for him if... if he were still here. He was my dork, my angel who was so good to me, to everyone. He was hardworking, always trying to be good at things he was interested in. And encouraging. Gosh, that boy. It was annoying at times, how he liked seeing everyone succeed. It was shocking to some since some of the people he had encouraged had been his competition his whole life.

“He had a good heart, a big heart. My son. He-He was just.. perfect. Yes, he made mistakes and yes he was scarred. But he was perfect and he didn't let his loses slow him down from life. Very adventurous. Him and his best of friend explored almost every country last year! He would send us postcards, his face glowing in the weather. Harry was good. At times, too good.

“I've known you for roughly an hour, Louis. But I know for the fact that you would make him very happy. When he got the timer on his wrist, he was ecstatic. Jumping around in joy every moment the time would freeze and go lower. His whole life he had wanted someone there to hold his hand and explore with him. He wanted someone who would understand him. Sure, I understood him, his best friend understood him, his sister, my husband. We understood him; but to an extent. We understood him to the finishing line he had made for us. And his soulmate's understanding started from there.

“Where we all end, you would've been there to start the line and in a way, never cross the finishing line because it meant that you still understood him. You're lovely, Louis. And Harry was lovely, too. He was the sweetest boy, the kindest, the most caring person you would've known. My baby. You would've surely fallen for him, dear. Like I did; the moment I saw his face, not crying, but rather smiling. He was smiling and his big eyes blinked upon me and I had fell for him. Twenty-two years ago, I fell for a little bald baby with big eyes and a cheeky smile.”

Anne was silently crying (and simultaneously laughing), the room suddenly feeling much too thick and much too hot. Louis blinked back his own tears, eyes pooling up but he stood tall. He did. For a bit. He wanted to. But he fell short. He fell short after a while and he couldn't stop the short tears that fell from his eyes. His heart felt beaten, like someone had punched it too many times that it was hard to repair.

Harry Styles was magic. A pinch of something good in Louis’ mad life. He was like finding air after drowning for minutes. He was like looking at the clear sky after a storm. He was like an old book to Louis, a great old book that could make you smile and cry and laugh and angry all at the same time. Harry was a healer of some sort.

Then after a moment or two of complete silence, Louis asked if he could look at some of Harry’s old pictures. Anne beamed.

It was a stream of laughter, fond, and complete, complete adoration after that. It made Louis think if Harry was his band-aid. His healer.

Maybe. Because since Harry, all Louis had ever felt was a drop or two of pain, thousands of bullets stabbing his heart, a punch on the gut, a tighten of the throat. But most of all— since Harry happened, all Louis felt was adoration and fond for a fool. His fool, he likes to think.


End file.
